Strains

When I show up for dinner, it’s actually dessert.

I enter through the same double doors of the dining hall as every night. No one seems to notice me, for the first time ever. Maybe everyone is too excited for the weekend to care about me. So maybe beating me up isn’t everyone’s favorite pastime.

I stall looking up at the faculty table until I can no longer avoid it. Matthew is going to be so upset with me. And I don’t know if I can handle that and not getting anything for dinner.

When I hit the first stair up to the stage, I look to the empty seat next to Hercules. It’s bigger than it should be.

Matthew isn’t here either.

My blood goes cold.

Where is he? Why would he skip dinner? Is he looking for me?

I wind around the table and take my seat. There isn’t a place setting made for him. Not even a napkin or glass.

“Ah, there she is!” Hercules says, and moves over slightly.

“We thought Matthew might’ve taken you with him to the council dinner tonight,” Tiffany says.

So that’s where he was.

Thank goodness. According to the handbook, I was off Scot-free.

“No, I-“

Do I really want to tell them some dumb Meats locked me up in a building?

“Just lost track of time. Sorry, everyone.”

The dean puts up his hand. “I’m sure we’re all just glad to see you’re okay.”

“You’re glad? I thought I was getting extra dinner.” Hercules carefully pulls out a plate from his wine crate and sets it in front of me.

It’s the dinner that was meant for me.

“Thank you, Hercules.”

“Don’t mention it, want a drink to go with it? That prude Matthew isn’t around.”

It’s a tempting offer, but I don’t want to be greedy. Luck had already smiled on me by giving me dinner and Matthew being away at a meeting. It probably wouldn’t look good to disrespect my facilitator in front of his colleagues either.

“No thanks, I’m fine with water.”

He deflates slightly and offers me a spoonful of his dessert. Looks like some kind of cobbler with a scoop of ice cream on top. It looks delicious.

“I’m fine, Hercules, but thank you, really.”

That one was a lot harder to say no to.

“We won’t tattle to Matthew about it Elizabeth, really the diet he has you on is ridiculous,” Tiffany says.

“No, it’s okay. I’m just grateful to have this,” I say, motioning to my plate.

“Now then, are we through tempting the girl? She obviously is very devoted and respects her facilitator, nothing wrong with that,” the dean interjects. Then he says quieter, “as long as she adheres to rule 127.”

“Always, sir,” I say.

The dean nods and digs into his dessert.

“Gosh, Elizabeth. We’re you living through a famine when you died?” Ynez, the director of the art classes, asks.

The professor next to him elbows him in the side.

“What? Matthew skipped the welcome ceremony, we don’t even know what Topside is like anymore,” he looks around the table. “I can’t be the only one who’s curious.”

Everyone shifts uncomfortably.

Topside, does Ynez mean the living world? That must be it. This is the first time anyone has bothered asking about what was going on back home when I was alive. Judging by the tone shift at the table though, I think Ynez might have committed a social faux paus by bringing it up. Even Tiffany, who is usually lively at dinner, even if Matthew is around, has her gaze set on her napkin.

Honestly, it wouldn’t bother me much, talking about home.

The dean lifts his hands.

“How Matthew and the council decide to go forward with unexpected student admissions is none of our business. I say we ought to keep our curiosities to ourselves.”

Ynez audibly groans and refocuses on dessert. The cloak of solemnity washes over dinner, and doesn’t leave until I’m left to do dishes alone.

***

I have a sneaking suspicion that my classmates might know about my encounter with the Meats this afternoon. The Meats from earlier aren’t helping their house with the dishes, and I’m almost positive I saw them sprint out the back door. No one gives me any issues while I do the faculty dishes.

None of my dishes magically end up on the floor. My water doesn’t jump out of the sink and soak my hair. And there are no stray bolts of electricity in my hand towels.

Even as I hang up my towel to dry, and walk the short distance back to my room, no one does anything. It’s nice.

Strange, but nice.

I open my door earlier than ever. I flick on the light and toss my backpack to its usual spot in the corner by the bathroom. Usually I get back too late to take a shower before bed, but tonight I might just do that. I didn’t get into a fight, and I had just a few less dishes to clean with Matthew gone.

I go to my closet and pull out a night gown and towel. My first weekend in Near Elysium is off to a good start. Matthew was nice to me for once, I got to eat random food with Hercules and I might have finally found a friend at the library.

I head into the bathroom and take a long shower. The warm water washes the week down the drain, and the steam opens my pores and heart to new possibilities for next week. I comb the tangles out of my hair with my fingers and step out of the shower.

Body and soul, I feel fresh, for the first time since I died.

The shiny red apple on my desk catches my eye immediately as I walk out of the bathroom. Underneath it is a folder filled with ugh, looks like homework for Korma’s class. There’s no point in stressing over that until Sunday, which I know, procrastinating is bad but for the first time in my existence I have a decent excuse. I can do the homework after I get books from Caiden, maybe in the flower garden near the library.

I’ll even put the assignment in my backpack, not to hide it, but for motivation. I pick up the folder and find a notecard underneath.

Behave yourself this weekend, see you Monday.

Matthew is going to be gone all weekend? Today is just getting better and better. I take the apple in my hand and lay across my bed. These things seem to be the only sweets I can get ahold of on campus. I take a big bite. They’re always so good. The flesh isn’t too firm, and the insides aren’t mealy; they’re always a handful of crisp, refreshing sweetness.

Did Matthew know I skipped dessert?

That damn psychic, he could’ve told me he could see into the future too. I think briefly to what Caiden said. Matthew could be intentionally listening to my thoughts. Even if it were true, that doesn’t necessarily mean it would be for something nefarious. Right? Matthew did a lot of things that hardly made any sense.

Agreeing to be my facilitator for one. I know he said it was to protect me, but still, it’s not like he knew me. I look over to the kitchenette in the corner. He knew about that though, somehow.

Maybe I ought to just forget about him for now. I won’t see him until Monday anyway.

I toss my apple core on top of my desk and settle into my pillow.

**

There!

The bottles in the crate shake gently as I set the box on Hercules’ stoop. He lives on the southern border of campus, just a bit outside the main gate. It’s a small cottage that I’ve never been in, but I just know it’s minimalist on the inside. Unless he’s a hoarder. Both are pretty likely. It doesn’t seem like his personality to have more than what he needs, but at the same time, his cottage is surrounded by various gym equipment. Earlier this week I had stubbed my toe on a free weight hidden in the tall grass. I’m a lot more cautious now.

Like all the other times I’ve made the delivery, Hercules isn’t here. Good thing too, I haven’t beat the rooster yet, not a single time. I’m still not a morning person, and without the aid of technology, it’s impossible.

The only benefit to having to drop off the wine crate every day is that I get to have breakfast before everyone else wakes up. The buffet is still being set up by ghosts when I show up.

I wonder, since Matthew is going to be out until Monday, maybe I’ll get to sneak some regular food. The ghosts pass by me with the warming trays, but no food. I slip into the kitchen as another whips by me.

It was completely empty an hour ago when I left with the wine crate, now it was alive with the swinging of white cloth. The ghosts wielded knives and pans, handling the instruments as if in an orchestra. In the middle of the sea of white was a tall, dark, and lanky man looking intently at a book in his hands.

“Good morning Chef.”

He put up a single finger. He mumbled something I couldn’t hear, then took off his glasses and closed the book.

“Elizabeth, good morning,” he waves to a ghost that holds a silver tray in its hand. “You have impeccable timing. Matthew just prepared that for you.”

That dream didn’t last long.

I take my tray and set it on the counter beside me. I had hoped to get actual calories for breakfast this morning, but that wasn’t the only thing.

“Actually, Chef, I was wondering if I could ask you a question.”

“First Matthew gives me extra work and now his student. What is it?”

I tense up. “I was just wondering if you had a spare water kettle? And maybe a mug and tea leaves?”

He looks at me incredulously. “What would you- never mind I don’t care. I haven’t served tea since the council got their own quarters downtown. So when my tea kettle broke I didn’t bother going to pick it up. You should try the portal pick up stand, it still might be there.”

“Portal pick up?”

He sighs. “Didn’t Matthew teach you anything? On Sundays the Meats bring items that have regenerated at the portal to a stand set up at the academy entry. They may have what you’re looking for.”

“That’s great, thank you Chef.”

He nods and gets back to directing the ghosts preparing breakfast. I pick up my breakfast tray and take it to eat at the faculty table.

***

After I clean my dishes, I head over to the library. It’s still relatively early, and since breakfast is the most commonly skipped meal of the day, the campus is deserted. I don’t get heckled or harassed at all on my walk off campus.

I walk up the dark steps of the library. The lock and twisted metal chain is still wrapped around the door handles. Figures. I’ll have to go all the way around back. Hopefully Caiden has all the gates unlocked.

Morning dew clings to my sneakers as I wrap around the building. This library is a fortress, surrounded on all sides with massive stone walls. All sides except for the entrance. It’s excessive, especially for a library.

The first gate gives a little, then swings open as a push it. Good, Caiden remembered I was coming. I won’t be able to run to the next gate today. The same dew that wet my sneakers has covered the moss that creeps in the crevices of the stone pavement. It’s crazy slippery. I take small steps. Healing from a sprain would take all day and dying from a fall is just lame.

I pass through the next gate. There are multiple smaller buildings between this gate and the back door to the library. They don’t have windows, so I can’t imagine what they’re for. Doesn’t matter though, since only Caiden is left and the library is closed.

I slip on some moss gunk and land on my knees. It hurts, but I’ve only bruised my knee. I look up at the building looming over me. There are windows all over its walls. They may be covered with iron bars, but that wouldn’t explain the perpetual darkness inside. Yesterday, I couldn’t even make out the edges of light around curtains.

“Elizabeth, good morning!” Caiden shouts from the back door.

I stand up and tip toe the rest of the way to the door.

“Morning, sir.”

He waves an arm. He’s still in those cloaks from yesterday.

“Please, call me Caiden. We don’t need to follow the silly formalities of the academy. Now, come on in, I found some books you might find useful.”

I follow him to the same spot we sat at the day before. There’s a few books stacked in my chair in front of the fireplace. Caiden takes the seat across. Again, there isn’t any light in here except for a candle and the fire in the hearth. I hold the books in the light that flickers from the flames. There’s a Latin to English dictionary, a guide to Egyptian basketry and a children’s book with a little boy holding a bowl on the cover.

“I’m afraid some of the more helpful books were never returned,” Caiden says apologetically.

“Their fines must be massive.”

Caiden chuckles.

“Thanks sir, I mean Caiden. Anything is better than the direction I’m getting now.” I put the books in my bag and sling it over my shoulder.

Caiden stands suddenly.

“Are you leaving already?”

“Oh, I was just going to go back to my room to study.” He shuffles slightly. I may not be psychic, but that doesn’t make me dense. I drop my bag and squat onto the floor beside it. “It might be nice to have some company though.”

He nods and eases back into his chair.

I pull my homework assignment from my bag and start to read it in the fire light. Looks as impossible as it usually does. Three pages worth of Latin verb conjugation. I settle in with the assignment and the dictionary.

I’m halfway through what actually might be correctly answering the questions when my pencil randomly snaps in half.

I sigh heavily.

“Time for a break?” Caiden asks from behind a book.

The pencil evaporates into thin air and I sit back on my hands.

“Yeah, I think so. What time is it?”

Caiden glances to a watch on his wrist.

“Just about noon,” he says.

Just in time for lunch. I can eat and hunt down another pencil.

“Hungry?” Caiden asks.

“Yeah, are you going to lunch?”

He shakes his head. Oh yeah, he doesn’t leave the library.

“Sorry, I can bring something back for you,” I say. I’m not sure if I actually could though, since Matthew always preps my lunch separately.

“I have a better idea, follow me.”